


Distracted

by steelrunner



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bad Ending, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Come Shot, Dirty Talk, Extremely Large Cock, Humiliation, Large Cock, M/M, Mindbreak, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Strength Kink, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelrunner/pseuds/steelrunner
Summary: “You were a captive in the arena,” Antok said. “Under the witch, I assume?”“So what if I was?” Shiro snapped.
Relationships: Antok/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80





	Distracted

**Author's Note:**

> Credit/blame for this fic's inspiration goes to Agi's [lovely artwork](https://twitter.com/agilaodan/status/1286296758642003973?s=20) (link is EXTREMELY NSFW, but then again so is this fic.)

Being around so many Galra terrified Shiro in a way he couldn’t explain.

He had been the one to trust Ulaz. He had been the one who pushed for approaching the Blades. And yet now that he was at their base, Shiro felt that terror growing stronger and stronger with every step he took into the lion’s den. By the time they were standing before the Blades’ leader, literally surrounded by Galran warriors, a bead of sweat was slipping down his spine and his pulse was racing, a rapid _thud-thud-thud_ against the walls of his rib cage. It was all he could do to keep his expression fixed and confident. Of all people, he didn’t want Keith to see him like this.

It wasn’t normal fear. Not as Shiro knew it. And it only ever appeared in the presence of Galra. Shiro had felt it pulse through him when facing off with Sendak, but also a whisper of it when Ulaz had been about to throw himself into combat with him: a primal, cowardly need to give up and lie down, roll over like a prey animal exposing their belly, and let - let _something_ happen to him. Shiro had originally written it off as a potent mix of trauma and survivalism, but here, with so many Galra around him that the urge pressed in on him like a fog, it felt more natural than irrational. Instinctual, even: an instinct trained into him by Haggar and whatever Galra commanders were pulling the arena’s strings. Suspicions had been growing in the back of Shiro’s mind about what kind of instinct it could be, but he forced those thoughts out of his mind - he couldn’t allow it to affect their mission.

Luckily - or unluckily - this mission gave him plenty of other things to focus on. If nothing else, anger over hearing Ulaz disparaged and concern for Keith helped him keep his head on straight. When that enormous, hulking Galra knocked Keith to the floor, Shiro couldn’t help but glare, hands curling into fists; he did so again when the Galra, Antok, warned Keith that they would meet again. Shiro had faith in Keith’s abilities, but faith wasn’t always enough in the face of enemies that might inevitably outmatch them. 

“These trials result in one of two things,” Kolivan continued. “Knowledge - or death.” He raised a hand, directing it towards two Blades standing alongside him. “Ampra, Korel - take the Red Paladin to be outfitted for the trials.” The two Blades approached Keith, but didn’t move to seize him. Shiro didn’t relax any.

Then, Kolivan gestured towards Antok. “Antok - take the Black Paladin to one of our holding chambers and supervise him.”

Keith stiffened. “I won’t let you imprison Shiro!”

“Not imprisoned,” Kolivan said. “Merely watched. Our trials are a closely-held secret, and we cannot allow an outsider to witness them.”

“As the leader of the Paladins, Keith is my responsibility,” Shiro fired back. If he couldn’t keep Keith from partaking in this stunt, he at least wanted to be close enough to bail him out. “How can I be sure he’ll be treated fairly?”

“I will personally be monitoring the trials and the Red Paladin’s progress,” Kolivan responded. “The trials are a demonstration of trust, _not_ a means of deception.”

Unsatisfied, Shiro fell silent. Kolivan’s rancor seemed genuine, which meant that he was at least being sincere - and it made a twisted sense that any resistance group in the Galra Empire would have to adopt a stance of hostile secrecy. “Fine,” he bit out. “But if something - anything - happens to Keith, I want to be notified.”

“Of course,” Kolivan said. “Disperse, and let the preparations begin.”

The unassigned Blades fell away, separating through shadowed doorways along the side of the hall. Keith was led off to another one of these, flanked by his two guards, and Shiro had one last opportunity to exchange glances with each other; through the glass of his helmet, Keith mouthed _don’t worry._

Shiro turned around to find Antok waiting for him, tail twitching with impatience. When he reached out to take hold of Shiro’s arm, Shiro jerked it away; his stomach crawled with primal emotion that nearly made him shudder. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped.

Antok growled - a deep, animalistic sound that succeeded in drawing out that shiver - but made no other response. He simply turned and stalked down the hall, leaving Shiro to follow him.

* * *

As they walked, Antok dropped back to stride alongside Shiro, diminishing Shiro’s chances to potentially sneak away. The ‘holding chamber’ he brought him to looked like one of the Castle’s lounges: another high-ceilinged room walled in rock and steel, containing nothing more than a table and some chairs. As Antok closed the door, Shiro made his way to the other end of the room, arms crossed as he eyed his appointed guard. If anything, it was making him even more jittery to be left alone with one Galra than to be surrounded by a whole crowd. He almost felt feverish with it - a low, warm sensation that pulsed through his body, hardly reminiscent of fear at all…

Antok turned, and even with his face covered, Shiro could tell that the uncanny glowing eye of his mask was fixed directly on him. The Blade drew a little closer and tilted his head, still looking at Shiro.

“What?” Shiro said. He knew he was being unnecessarily rude, but it was hard enough to keep his composure already.

“You are the Champion. You were abducted and held captive by Imperial forces.”

“Yes,” Shiro said, short and clipped. But he looked back at Antok anyway. “Did Ulaz tell you that?”

“It was in his reports. He said that was where you received your primary modification.” Antok gestures at Shiro’s arm.

“It was, yeah.”

Antok paced towards Shiro, and Shiro tried not to show his displeasure. He stopped a mere two feet away, looking down at Shiro from his inhuman height. A convulsive shiver ran down Shiro’s spine, and this time he heard it: a sniff.

“Are - are you _smelling_ me?”

“Yes,” Antok said matter-of-factly. He leaned in, and Shiro automatically took a step back. His stomach churned.

“ _Why_?”

Antok was silent for several moments, and when he spoke, his words brought an instant hot flush of humiliation to Shiro’s cheeks. “You smell like a bitch in heat.”

…Whatever Shiro was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. “I - what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?!”

“You were a captive in the arena,” Antok said. “Under the witch, I assume?”

“So what if I was?” Shiro snapped.

“Only one kind of Druid modification will make an alien smell like that.” Antok stepped forward. If Shiro could have stepped back further, he would have, but now his back was to the wall - Antok was standing nearly toe-to-toe with him. The Galra’s presence, his closeness, was so palpable he could have sensed it with his eyes shut. “How is it you can bear to be around Galra at all?”

“I’m not a coward,” Shiro forced out. If Antok knew how he was feeling now, he would know Shiro could barely stand to be around Galra at all, body and mind screaming for - for something else while his will held them together: the same as when he had barely been able to resist Sendak in the Castle, hiding his trembling, his vile urge to give up and _submit_ to his former tormentor. “And I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.”

“Did you truly think it would escape notice?” Antok growled. “You’re not the first we’ve seen so afflicted, but most victims are wise enough to find safe owners and stay out of the way, rather than run into a battlefield full of those who would exploit you.” He reached out as if to lay a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, and before Shiro could think it through, he smacked it away with a shudder. “Denial will only serve you so long. The urges cannot be denied.”

“I defeated Sendak!” Shiro said, holding his head high. “I can defeat this - I can defeat you too!”

“You are a fool,” Antok said dismissively. He reached for Shiro again, and Shiro ducked, crouching and rolling to escape Antok’s reach. He dodged Antok’s first grab, but the second caught him by the belt; Shiro braced himself, but Antok spun him around and slammed him into the wall as if he was light as a feather. Antok seized his arms, squeezing his wrists together behind his back with one massive fist. The feeling of his hands on his body made Shiro’s breath catch. He could feel the heat of Antok’s body radiating as the Galra pressed him into the wall, and an involuntary sound slipped from Shiro’s mouth as Antok’s free hand grasped his hip.His thoughts were spinning faster than he could parse them, magnetized around Antok’s touch in a steady stream of _touch me touch me I won’t fight please_ -

“Only a fool tries to deny the nature of reality,” Antok continued, voice lowering to a rumble. “Allow me to show you the _real_ effects of your bravery.”

With a single violent motion, Antok tore away the crotch of Shiro’s jumpsuit, exposing him completely as the fabric shredded away. His cock fell forward, and to Shiro’s personal horror, he glanced down to see that his cock was half-hard already. Antok’s hand delved between his legs, briefly groping both it and his sac, and just that touch made Shiro’s cock twitch, leaking pre over Antok’s palm. He let out a strangled sound of disgust and arousal and tried to break Antok’s grip, but it was like his body wouldn’t respond to his own commands, going limp as he was toyed with. “You see?” Antok said. “You can’t even control yourself.”

Shiro shouted as Antok hoisted him up into the air, cradling his back against his chest. He cried out again, furious, as those massive, three-fingered hands slid under Shiro’s thighs and tested his flexibility by lifting them all the way back, until Shiro’s knees were up by his ears. The position forced his ass out, cock throbbing as it bobbed unsteadily in the air. “You - you son of a bitch - !” Shiro managed to get out; he twisted his head, trying to look back at Antok - and then something moved between his legs, and Shiro lost all memory of what he’d been about to say.

Antok’s dick was positioned right below the curve of Shiro’s ass. It was a _monster_ : not just bigger than Shiro’s, but easily two, _three_ times the size - as thick around as Shiro’s forearm and almost as long as his thigh. There was an opalescent sheen over the flushed gray shaft, and bumpy ridges running down the sides. A hot shudder of terror and arousal ran through Shiro, and he twisted in Antok’s grip as the Blade laced his thick fingers behind Shiro’s head and locked Shiro into place, cock already prodding against Shiro’s ass. “Wait!” he cried out. “Wait, that’s never going to fit - ?!“

Antok’s cock nudged at the rim of Shiro’s hole, then pushed inside with shocking swiftness, the arrow-shaped head forcing Shiro open despite natural resistance. Shiro gasped, rocked by the sudden blunt pressure of it, the sharp burst of pain -

\- and then the pain faded, and the gasp turned to a cry as Antok pulled him down onto his cock. And _oh_ , Shiro took it, even though he couldn’t wrap his head around how - _it won’t fit, it won’t fit_ , except it _did_ , inch after inch sinking inside until Shiro was clenching and spasming around a quarter of its length. The weight and pressure of that monstrous cock buried inside him was incredible, overwhelming in its brutality; so overwhelming, in fact, that Shiro didn’t realize it wasn’t pain until Antok slowed to a stop.

Shiro panted erratically, and behind his mask Antok hummed, hips stilling momentarily. “You see? Your body was remade for this.”

Shiro could barely understand his words, distracted by the feeling of being so fully split apart, and his attempts to stammer out a rebuttal were thoroughly disrupted as Antok pulled Shiro _up_ , until the fat ridge of his cockhead was straining against his rim. Shiro grunted roughly as the alien cock dragged against his inner walls, pressing down on his prostate with ruthless force. Then Antok’s hips snapped up, and Shiro was forced down further, faster - accompanied by a slick squish that made Shiro’s heart leap. Antok purred low in his throat, and Shiro flinched as Antok’s mask bumped against the top of his head. “Look at yourself.”

Shiro glanced downwards. He could see Antok’s shaft where it was sinking into him, stretching out his pink rim, but more concerning was what he saw above it: his cock, hard and leaking, and a large bulge rising in his stomach. It distended the skin over his abdomen, bowing out in an outline that matched the inhuman length and girth of Antok’s cock. When Antok thrust up, it actually _grew_ in size, followed by the jaw-dropping sensation of being penetrated further still. It was _wonderful_. “Oh,” Shiro moaned, distraught and horribly, painfully aroused. It was worse than he ever could have imagined: something awful and disturbing and degrading, except part of himself was _writhing_ for it, begging to be used like the most pathetic kind of slut. “Oh, fuuuuuhh…”

The word never made it out of his mouth, stopping in the middle like his brain had turned off. Maybe it had. The only thing Shiro could really focus on or care about was the massive shaft thrusting into him as Antok began bouncing him on his cock in earnest. A thin, slippery sheen, like lubricant, was dripping down the shaft, easing the way for more and more of it to enter Shiro. Shiro could feel it slicking his rim, bubbling out around Antok’s girth in a filthy wet froth. There was only one place it could have come from, but it was ridiculous - it was _impossible_ that Shiro was wet. It was impossible that he was taking a cock of this size unprepared, without injury. It was impossible, unless -

Unless he’d really been _meant_ to do so. Unless he really had been reprogrammed, rebuilt to become this, this _toy_. This desperate, fucked-out toy…

Shiro’s thoughts faded and flickered, replaced by sheer sensation. He was lifted, dropped, fucked senseless; his hole was so stretched it could barely squeeze down, but it tried, each clench around Antok’s cock accompanied by a wave of shameless pleasure. More slick dripped from Shiro’s hole to splatter on the floor, and he didn’t bother to restrain the thin whines and moans that escaped from his mouth. Antok grunted as he fucked into Shiro, his thrusts growing rougher and sloppier as they sped up. The numbing pleasure grew and grew.

“Oh, _fuck_!” Shiro cried out, voice shrill with his own desperation. Antok pulled out with one last devastating _pop_ , and hot cum splattered across Shiro’s skin: over his ass, his taint, the hot, slick gape of his hole. He barely noticed it as his own cock twitched and jerked, spurting freely as his own cum landed all across him, from his stomach to the bridge of his nose. He’d never come so much in his life and thick droplets still ran down his own shaft. When he clenched down in reflex, though, he definitely noticed the stretched, almost painful emptiness of his entrance;Antok had ruined him, leaving the rim forced so wide that Shiro barely felt it when he squeezed down. A trickle of cum began to drip off the rim, and Shiro whined.

“Good and broken,” Antok muttered. He continued to hold Shiro captive, pinned up in the air - Shiro didn’t have the presence of mind to squirm anymore, just hanging there panting as cum dripped down his ass and stomach.“They made you into a needy thing, didn’t they?”

A noise was trying to work its way out of Shiro’s throat. He needed…he needed…

Finally the noise made it to his mouth, and it turned into a stuttered, slurred word: “M-more.”

“More?” Antok said. In that rough voice the soft tone he took was dangerous, promising. “You want more, little Paladin?”

Hazily, Shiro modded, not knowing or caring if Antok would understand the gesture. “Mm-more. More...more cock...more cum...”

Antok made a purring sound, and he squeezed Shiro’s thighs. “Did they just make you into a cocksleeve? Or are you a breeder as well?”

Shiro moaned, inarticulate. He didn’t want to _talk_. “More - p’ls, I need it, I need it - “

Antok walked over and deposited Shiro on top of the nearest table, flipping him over as Shiro grunted. He yanked Shiro’s hips upwards as he pushed his head down. When a sharp slap landed on his ass, Shiro whimpered loudly before fading into silence, wiggling his hips for attention: another slap, another fuck, anything. One of those three-fingered hands trailed over his ass, and two thick digits dipped into his hole, pushing Antok’s cum inside.

“Most of my brothers are busy giving that brat of yours a proper initiation,” Antok murmured. Shiro nuzzled against the table’s surface, unable to voice the distant flash of concern in his mind. “But maybe I can convince some of the reserves to come help. That might be enough to stabilize your fugue...or if not, maybe Kolivan will let you two be worked over together.”

The fingers curved, pressed, thrust in and out of Shiro’s hole. Shiro began rolling his hips back, fucking himself on them shamelessly. There was a hot flash of pain when Antok pressed too firmly against Shiro’s prostate, but it was brief and quickly overwhelmed by pleasure; his cock didn’t harden, but continued to drool, leaving a pool of cum forming on the table below. Shiro himself just panted, not thinking beyond the instincts that guided him; it was like he’d been hungry all his life and just gotten his first bite. He couldn’t _stop_.

“Would you like that, Black Paladin? Being kept and used for your proper purpose?”

“Y’yessssss,” Shiro moaned. Antok purred again, and Shiro jolted and cried out as Antok rewarded him with another finger, finally filling his stretched hole. Soon - soon he’d have more masters to serve.

It was so nice, he thought, not having to worry anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit me on [the other blue hellsite](https://twitter.com/mistlethace).


End file.
